


so pleasing a thing

by summerofspock



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Aziraphale "I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" Fell, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), But mostly porn, Crowley can do interesting things with his tongue, Demonic Rut, Established Relationship, Feral Crowley, M/M, Marathon Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pon Farr, Pon Farr fic in MY FANDOM? it's more likely than you think, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Smut, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Sex, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: “Look,” Crowley had said, eyes still on the ground. “It’s fine. It’s just a thing. A demonic quirk. I can handle it."**In which Crowley suffers from a biological imperative, and Aziraphale helps him through it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 1165
Collections: Summer's Kink Corner





	so pleasing a thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetic_nonsense](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetic_nonsense/gifts).



> title from Amok Time aka THE OG source material  
> shout out to [D20Owlbear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeforeCrimson/pseuds/D20Owlbear) for the beta!
> 
> for poetic nonsense whom I love dearly. they have been an unwavering supporter of my wild and off the wall ideas for the last several months, doing lightning fast betas and often calling me out on both my bad habits and my self doubting nonsense. you said pon farr but make it good omens and well...here we are.  
> cheers kee! this one's for you.

Crowley explained it to him a few months after the world didn’t end. Red faced and nervous, Crowley had sat him down in the back of the bookshop and told him everything.

“You mean to say that every century for the last six millennia you’ve been suffering through this alone?” Aziraphale asked, aghast. Surely not. Aziraphale would have noticed if Crowley had disappeared for an entire week.

Except he wouldn’t have. Not back then.

“Look,” Crowley had said, eyes still on the ground. “It’s fine. It’s just a thing. A demonic quirk. I can handle it. Just y’know, now that we’re…”

“Together,” Aziraphale finished for him, not exactly liking where this was going.

“Yeah, I just thought you should know if I went incommunicado for a week or so. Didn’t want you to worry.”

Aziraphale stared at him, a complex myriad of emotions swirling through him. “You mean to say that you are going to go into demonic _heat_ and you expect me to putter around here like nothing is happening while you suffer alone in your flat.”

Crowley looked away, cheeks going pink as his entire, beautiful, expressive face dipped into a frown. “Aziraphale, it’s not - you shouldn’t have to do that. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

Aziraphale practically leapt out of his chair so he could drop to his knees in front of Crowley and take his hands in his own. “Darling, please look at me.” Nervous eyes met his. “I love you. And if every century you have to put up with this - this demonic quirk as you say, then I will be there through every part of it.”

Crowley’s lips formed a thin, razor sharp line that cut directly at Aziraphale’s heart. After all this time, all he wanted was for Crowley to trust him, to let him take care of him. Perhaps this was the start of that, the fact that Crowley trusted him enough to tell him.

He brushed his thumb over the back of Crowley’s knuckles, savoring the cool texture of his skin. This ability to touch, to love, it was still something he was getting used to and it thrilled him every time.

“When will it happen? Do you know?”

Crowley shook his head. “Some time in the next few years. It always comes on suddenly. A few days of restlessness and foul temper before it’s on me and I - well, I always tried to take myself somewhere as far away from you as possible.”

Aziraphale blushed, leaning up to brush a kiss over Crowley’s cheek. “We’ll figure it out, dearheart. We always do.”

“We do, don’t we?” Crowley said with a wry smile, hauling Aziraphale into his lap to kiss him more thoroughly.

* * *

“Oh, love,” Aziraphale gasped into the back of Crowley’s neck as he rocked into him, one hand on his chest holding him against Aziraphale’s body as he gasped.

“You’re so good to me,” Aziraphale whispered, nipping over the knobs of Crowley’s spine. “You feel so good.”

A whine started up in Crowley’s throat as he pushed back against Aziraphale, head hanging forward as his back arched with pleasure. Aziraphale loved this, the way Crowley came apart under him, just from the feel of his cock. If Aziraphale moved just right, he knew he could make Crowley come without even touching him.

But right then, he wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible so he conjured slick into his palm and wrapped his hand around Crowley. Two quick strokes was all it took before he cried out, spasming around Aziraphale’s cock, the sensation wringing Aziraphale’s own orgasm from him.

Satisfied and feeling very full of love, Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the top of Crowley’s spine before slipping out, rolling Crowley onto his back so he could pet the fine dusting of ginger chest hair that he loved so much, kiss his beloved lips.

“Angel,” Crowley said into his mouth, more of a sigh than anything as he cupped the back of Aziraphale’s head with a hand to deepen the kiss.

Aziraphale pulled away, pressing light kisses over his jaw. “Let me clean you up, darling. I’ve made a mess of you.”

Crowley grunted his displeasure when Aziraphale got out of bed to get a soft flannel. Sometimes they used to their powers to clean up but more often than not, Aziraphale took care of Crowley. He loved the way the demon melted under the attention, eyes fluttering shut as his expression turned blissful.

With careful movements, Aziraphale climbed back into bed so he could run the cloth over Crowley’s taut belly, cleaning up his spendings before parting his legs to clean the mess Aziraphale had made, all the while kissing Crowley’s shoulder and murmuring endearments.

When he finished, Crowley rolled onto his side and tucked his nose against Aziraphale’s neck. “Do you mind if I…”

“Not at all, dear,” Aziraphale said, squeezing his hip with a firm hand.

Crowley sighed, and with an unearthly motion he transformed into the wide black snake Aziraphale was growing more used to having in his bed. He was a bit too big for a full cuddle but Crowley liked to rest his head on Aziraphale’s chest when he coiled under the blankets.

 _Love you_ , Crowley hissed in his direction, a subtle flickering of his tongue tickling Aziraphale’s chin.

Aziraphale ran a contented hand over Crowley’s head, settling in for a long afternoon nap. He didn’t exactly sleep but he did enjoy lying down with Crowley and resting for lack of a better word. “I love you too, darling. Rest now.”

And Crowley did.

* * *

It started in the bookshop. Crowley was flicking through Aziraphale’s old records and making fun of his tastes while Aziraphale rearranged his poetry section, selecting the more damaged books for mending.

“Mendelssohn? Derivative,” Crowley snorted before plucking out something else and setting it spinning on the gramophone.

Aziraphale laughed, setting down the Dante in his hand before approaching Crowley, pulling him into the circle of his arms, his belly pressed into Crowley’s back, making him feel safe.

“Have I told you today that I love you?” he asked as they swayed slightly to the music. Crowley’s chest jumped under his hands, a short laugh.

“Once but that was hours ago.”

“Well then, that’s hardly suitable. I love you, darling,” Aziraphale said, resting his chin on Crowley’s shoulder and feeling absolutely content.

“Why don’t we get some lunch, angel?” Crowley said, spinning around to look at him.

The bell above the door jingled and Crowley whirled to face the intruder, a kind looking middle aged woman who smiled at the both of them.

“What a quaint little shop?” she said, moving to one of the tables that held a variety of Aziraphale’s less precious books. He didn’t mind when customers touched those.

“Excuse me,” Crowley hissed, his sibilants drawn out in a way that plucked at Aziraphale’s concern. Crowley only forgot himself to hiss when something was truly wrong, when he was distressed.

The woman looked up, a book still in her hand. Crowley started to circle her like a snake eyeing up its prey. “You should leave,” Crowley said and Aziraphale sensed the thread of his power in the suggestion. It was a Temptation.

The woman dropped the book, eyes going blank as she turned around and left the bookshop without a word.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said sharply. How dare he do that?

“What?” Crowley demanded, baring his teeth.

“You can’t use your powers on my customers,” Aziraphale insisted and then Crowley was advancing on _him_.

“What are you going to do about it, Azssiraphale?” There was the hiss again. Aziraphale decidedly did not like it.

“If you’re going to behave this way, then perhaps you should leave,” Aziraphale said, holding his ground.

Crowley ripped off his sunglasses and threw them against the wall where they cracked loudly. The sound seemed to snap him out of it. Eyes wide, he gasped and sank down onto the sofa, head dropping into his hands. “Fuck.”

Aziraphale took a seat next to him hesitantly, hand going to his back to rub soothing circles. “What’s going on, my dear?”

“It’s happening,” Crowley said, words muffled by his palms.

“What’s happening?” Aziraphale asked, befuddled.

“That - what we talked about last year. The quirk,” Crowley said and he sounded terribly miserable.

Realization snapped through Aziraphale, a puzzle piece slotting into place. “Oh the - the thing. Should you go home?”

Crowley’s head snapped up, teeth bared and eyes wild. “Want me to go home do you? Finally reached the limit of putting up with your demon lover?”

Aziraphale’s heart clenched at the words, his first impulse to snap back but he pushed it away and took a deep breath. “No, love. But I want to know where you’ll be most comfortable. Wherever that is. I’m with you.”

Crowley’s shoulders relaxed and then he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face in apparent frustration. “I’m sorry. This is - it’s not pretty, angel. You shouldn’t -”

“None of that. There’s no shoulds about it. I am. I won’t sit here knowing you’re across town suffering your way through this alone.”

Crowley swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. “Alright. Yeah. I just - don’t want to hurt you.”

Aziraphale kissed him softly. “You won’t. Let’s get you home and then I’ll...I’ll make sure we have everything we need and then I’m not leaving your side until this is over.”

Crowley nearly collapsed against him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head, unsure of what to say as he began to plan for what may be the next seven days.

* * *

Leaving Crowley tucked into bed in the darkness of his room, Aziraphale took his leave, determined to get everything they may need for Crowley to be comfortable. And for him to be comfortable most likely.

He picked up Crowley’s favorite olives, several packages of those cheesy crisps he liked, and a bottle of his favorite wine. All for after.

After.

For himself, he purchased two slices of black forest gateau from his favorite bakery, grapes and a few other sundries that would be a nice treat if he had time for it.

For the more practical side of things, he purchased several soft towels, the fuzziest blanket he could get his hands on and a hot water bottle. All things he and Crowley could use after it was all over.

Purchases in hand, he made his way back to Crowley’s apartment the human way, afraid that miracling himself there would spell disaster for all his newly acquired goods, all that rearranging of molecules ruining the taste. Anticipation was curling low in his belly, shocking him.

Crowley was terrified and part of Aziraphale was...looking forward to this. What would it be like to have Crowley claim him? To see his beloved demon insatiable? So much of their love making was gentle, tender and Aziraphale loved every second. But this? Well, perhaps Aziraphale found it more than a little exciting.

Crowley’s apartment was dark when he entered so Aziraphale snapped on the lights, going to the kitchen to set down his things before spending a bit of time watering Crowley’s plants. Apparently Crowley would be in no fit state to do it himself.

With a deep breath and hammering heart, Aziraphale retreated to the bedroom. The floor to ceiling windows poured light over Crowley’s black satin duvet and all Aziraphale could see of him was the shock of his red hair peeking out over the blanket.

“Crowley?”

The lump in the bed shuffled and Crowley sat up. When he opened his eyes, Aziraphale had to stifle a gasp.

His pupils were blown.

In their long acquaintance, Aziraphale had never seen him with pupils like that. Crowley had snake eyes, they didn’t dilate. It was unnerving to see an expression on Crowley that he had never seen before. He thought he’d seen Crowley in every iteration and yet…

Crowley’s nostrils flared and his pupils dilated impossibly wider until there was only a thin rim of gold surrounding his pupils. His throat worked as the blanket fell away from his torso, settling around his hips and Aziraphale saw that he was just in his gray henley, jacket discarded somewhere.

Aziraphale carefully took off his own jacket, laying it aside as Crowley’s eyes tracked him through the room. He felt that gaze all the way down to his toes, his cock filling in anticipation. Was it awful of him to be this aroused?

He unbuttoned his waistcoat as Crowley licked his lips. He had just turned away to lay his waist coat on the dresser when two firm arms snaked around his waist, hot mouth pressed against his pulse.

“Just one moment, dear,” Aziraphale began but perhaps he had misjudged because he found himself thrown bodily onto the bed which bounced slightly under his weight. His head spun as Crowley scrabbled at his fly, ripping his braces off with no regard for the fabric they were attached to.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale squeaked. Crowley had explained his loss of control like wading into a pool but this felt like they were entirely off the deep end.What had happened to the slow coming on of the heat? The slide of Crowley’s control.

Crowley made a noise, a growl that emanated from his chest, pushing Aziraphale back against the bed and holding him there. Aziraphale tried to reach out, to soothe, to hold, but Crowley was lost to something outside of his understanding. Perhaps it would be easier to simply let it happen.

Crowley’s fingers had wormed their way into his trousers and they were unceremoniously tugged down to his knees along with his pants. Displaying a strength Aziraphale had never seen before, Crowley flipped him onto his stomach, grasped his thighs and pulling him up until he was on his knees and his arse was in the air.

Aziraphale’s muscles jumped when Crowley ran his infernally hot tongue along the dip of his spine, the steam of a long exhale before harsh hands sank into the meat of his arse, pulling apart his cheeks so Crowley could dip his tongue inside.

Aziraphale yelped and tried to grip onto the sheets, unable to find purchase on the silky fabric. His hand flew out to grasp at the metal slats of Crowley’s headboard as Crowley thrust his tongue inside him.

They’d done this before of course. Aziraphale liked it well enough but he much preferred doing it to Crowley, the way he squirmed and gasped, so desperate in his need. But this—Crowley had never—he’d never done _that_ with his tongue. It felt longer and thinner, more of a flutter than a hot press and it sent tingles up Aziraphale’s spine and over his scalp as his toes curled. He gasped Crowley’s name and pushed back onto his tongue when it retreated.

But not for long, Crowley’s hands were between his thighs pushing them as far apart as they would go, that same sensation fluttering over his perineum and the base of his balls.

His cock jumped, the sensation so intense that he fell forward, almost certain he could come from just this as his vision began to blur.

There was a grunt and the hands disappeared from his thighs, the tongue no longer pressing, _pressing_ , but now there was something blunt against Aziraphale’s hole that he was entirely unprepared for.

Jerking away, he whirled around and slammed Crowley against the bed with one hand as he summoned lube with the other.

Crowley floundered under his grip, eyes almost entirely black, lips slick with spit and at any other moment Aziraphale would be kissing the breath from his mouth, but he couldn’t get distracted like that.

With a short uncomfortable miracle he prepared himself, grunting at the foreign sensation before he could slick Crowley’s cock where it jutted obscenely from his open jeans. Aziraphale yanked at his bow tie, trying to divest himself of the rest of his clothes but the change in his attention was enough for Crowley to get a better hold on the arm pinning him down, twisting it back and pushing against Aziraphale. With a yelp of pain, Aziraphale found himself on his back as Crowley tore his trousers in two, spreading his legs and pushing his thighs back before pressing into him without warning.

It knocked the breath from Aziraphale’s lungs and the thoughts from his head. All that existed was the pressure of Crowley’s fingers on his thighs, the stretch of his cock, unbearably warm but feeling so so good as he thrust into him without any consideration for Aziraphale’s comfort.

And Aziraphale wasn’t comfortable.

He loved it.

He managed to fist a hand around his aching cock while Crowley fucked into him, each thrust knocking him back further until the only thing separating his head from the headboard was a thick layer of black pillows. He gasped at each intrusion, cock pulsing with pleasure as he worked over himself. The awkward angle was pushing his belly into the tight fabric of his shirt. He wanted to remove it but he was so close to his orgasm that he couldn’t even focus enough to miracle it away. He was going to come from this, he just knew it, watching Crowley stare down between them at the place their bodies connected, hands coming down to lift up his arse as Aziraphale’s calves hooked over his slim shoulders. Crowley was still in his jeans and shirt, arms flexing from the effort of holding up Aziraphale’s thighs, rough fabric of his jeans scraping on Aziraphale’s skin. Aziraphale couldn’t look at him—couldn’t look away. His neck hurt, his thighs hurt, all of him burned and yet—

With a long groan, his cock spilled onto his stomach, staining the fabric of his vest and shirt. The pleasure was so intense that his vision blurred into spots of light.

It didn’t stop Crowley. In fact, it seemed to egg him on, his thrusts growing harder, faster, more erratic. The hurt was so delicious that Aziraphale wished he could come again, the limitations of his human corporation feeling supremely unfair at the moment.

With a strangled groan and particularly violent thrust, Crowley came inside him in a hot rush before releasing Aziraphale’s legs and collapsing on top of him, chest heaving.

Unsure of what to do, but knowing exactly what he wanted, Aziraphale grabbed his chin and pulled him into a violent kiss, groaning with relief when their mouths touched. He’d needed this. More than anything he’d craved the feel of Crowley’s lips on his.

He pushed Crowley onto his back and sank his hands into his cropped hair, sucking on his tongue as he felt Crowley’s release begin to trickle down his thighs.

He pulled back with a sharp inhalation, wishing his corporation didn’t have to breathe just so they could keep kissing. When he opened his eyes, he saw Crowley staring back, his pupils no longer filling his eyes, but still dilated enough to look almost round. He looked wrecked, breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Angel,” Crowley said, voice rough as he reached up to touch Aziraphale’s face.

“Yes, I’m here, darling. Are you back with me?” Aziraphale asked, catching his hand to press a kiss to his palm.

Crowley pulled Aziraphale back down so their bodies were pressed together entirely, a cuddle with an edge of desperation. “This always happens. It fades for a bit and then…”

Aziraphale’s heart surged with excitement. There would be more?

“Are you alright?” Crowley finally choked out, his hands beginning to squeeze at Aziraphale’s body like he couldn’t help himself, unsure fingers working over his buttons as he tried to remove Aziraphale’s shirt. “Did I hurt you?”

Aziraphale didn’t know what to say. Yes, but I liked it? Crowley would hate hearing that. He’d feel guilty and awful and Aziraphale didn’t want that in the least.

“No,” he managed. “And even if you did, must I remind you that I am an angel and fully capable of healing myself?”

Crowley grunted into his collarbone, the noise immediately followed by an open mouthed lick that made Aziraphale’s muscles tense. He could feel the blood rising to the skin as Crowley sucked a bruise into his clavicle and then his neck, hands roaming all over his back to squeeze at Aziraphale’s love handles. Then those hands were on his arse again, and Aziraphale prepared himself for the intrusion of fingers but instead it was just an insistent tug like Crowley wanted him to move so Aziraphale let him guide him.

“Angel,” Crowley said, startling him. He’d thought he was already in the throes of it. “Come up here. Let me suck you.”

A shock of arousal rolled through him. He wasn’t sure he could get hard again so soon but he followed Crowley’s instructions, moving up the bed so that he was straddling Crowley’s shoulders. He shook off his shirt and tugged his vest over his head, tossing them aside with an uncharacteristic lack of care.

Crowley’s eyes were nearly black as he said, “On your side. Suck me too. It’ll...if we start that way...I should...I don’t want to hurt you. Just your mouth. Give your mouth.”

Aziraphale moved quickly to obey, tugging on Crowley’s hip so they were curved together like parentheses. Crowley was already hard, his cock an angry red. Arousal pulsed between Aziraphale’s legs as he settled onto his side, taking Crowley’ into his mouth and licking over the head, savoring the familiar metallic tang of him.

He pulled back and pushed Crowley’s jeans down around his ankles, yanking them off so he could scrape his fingers through the downy ginger hair of his thighs.

He felt Crowley pull off his socks and the rent portions of his trousers—he’d give Crowley a talking to later about respecting clothing—before he licked over his soft cock, the heat of it overwhelming as that fluttering sensation returned, an impossible circular movement of an inhuman tongue that had Aziraphale clenching around nothing. Then there were sharp teeth biting over his thighs, fingers digging into his flesh and holding him in place before Crowley sucked him down entirely. Aziraphale moaned around Crowley’s cock, mouth dropping open which Crowley seemed to take as permission to buck into him, hips thrusting forward until he hit the back of Aziraphale’s throat, making him gag.

Was it terrible that he wanted more?

He grasped at Crowley’s hip with one hand, urging him forward as he tried to relax his throat. His cock was growing hard under Crowley’s tongue and with every scrape of Crowley’s cock over his soft palate, the steady tug of arousal grew in his belly.

Saliva dripped down his chin and Aziraphale reached out to roll Crowley’s balls in his hand, slipping his fingers to rub them over his perineum the way he knew Crowley liked. It earned him a whine and a stuttering of his hips before he felt Crowley come down his throat. He tried to swallow around it but there was too much and it dripped down his chin as he choked.

Spluttering, he found himself pushed onto his back, Crowley’s hands running over his body as if checking for wounds.

“Fuck, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, forehead coming to rest on Aziraphale’s hip. “Bruises.”

Aziraphale looked down his body and saw nail marks, blooming bruises on his thighs where Crowley had bitten him. The sight of them made his now hard cock twitch. He liked the reddish purple cut of them, the way they stood out against his pale skin.

“I like them,” he managed to say, words lost for a moment in some lust drunk haze.

Crowley looked at him with those hunting cat eyes and even in their strangeness, Aziraphale could see the anxiety there.

He pushed Crowley’s hair back from his face carefully. “I love you. I want to see every side of you. Even this one.”

Crowley surged up his body and kissed him, that same acute relief from before coming over Aziraphale as Crowley’s love washed over him. He was floating happily in the sensation until Crowley yanked himself away, growling, “Hands and knees.”

Aziraphale blinked at him in confusion only to have Crowley’s insistent hands trying to turn him over.

“Hands. And. Knees,” Crowley ground out.

Oh.

Aziraphale flipped over, rising up on shaking hands. He let out a shocked yelp when he felt Crowley’s teeth sink into the flesh of his arse, biting and sucking and licking until Aziraphale was absolutely overcome.

He wildly cast out with his powers to make sure he slicked the way as Crowley breached him. This time was easier, a steady slide. At this angle, each thrust brushed over Aziraphale’s prostate, the sheer depth of it making Aziraphale whine.

When they made love, Aziraphale was usually the one to do this. He loved taking the time to prepare Crowley with his tongue, his fingers. He liked the blush of Crowley’s body, the haze of his serpentine eyes. He wanted to shower Crowley with love. Love he deserved.

But this was wonderfully different. Aziraphale felt possessed entirely. Crowley thrusting into him from behind, his body shaking with every movement, Crowley’s hips snapping against his arse and making him cry out. How could Crowley have thought Aziraphale would do anything but love this?

He reached his hand down to fist his cock but found it slapped away as Crowley grasped at him, stroking him in a way that was just the right side of painful and made Aziraphale press his arse back against him, begging for more.

“I love you,” he gasped out. “Love you. Love this.”

Aziraphale had no idea how far gone Crowley was, or if those words would register, but he hoped Crowley heard them all the same.

Aziraphale’s orgasm struck with no warning, his arms giving out under him as he spilled over Crowley’s hand. He felt sharp teeth sink into his shoulder blade as Crowley covered his body with his own, fucking into him brutally before he bit even harder, breaking skin, hips stuttering as he came.

Crowley collapsed on top of him and Aziraphale relished the cool familiar weight as he tried to regulate his breathing. He’d probably need to heal after that one. His arse was twinging and he thought he’d pulled a muscle in his arm.

Crowley nuzzled between his shoulder blade, soft licks of a snake-like tongue moving over the abused skin.

Aziraphale hummed at the odd sensation. It was...nice.

“Are you with me, dear?” Aziraphale asked into the comforter.

Crowley snuffled against his skin. “Yeah. Think I’ll be here for a bit. I don’t feel the...I don’t know how to explain it. Doesn’t hurt?”

Aziraphale made a noise of acknowledgment. “Perhaps a shower? Do you think you’ll be alright for that long? I feel very sticky.”

“Could miracle you clean,” Crowley offered, still pressing little licks and kisses all over Aziraphale’s back. It tickled.

“I believe a shower would be good for the soul,” Aziraphale insisted, letting Crowley roll him over to kiss him softly. “And my aching bones,” he added ruefully.

Thankfully, Crowley laughed at that. “I love you, angel. So bloody much.”

“I know, love. Now up you get,” Aziraphale said, urging him out of bed so they could both stumble their way into the shower.

Crowley seemed reluctant to let go of his hand so Aziraphale let him lead the way, tugging him along. They didn’t use Crowley’s shower very often but it was a monstrosity of a thing, nearly the size of a room. It was entirely unnecessary and yet very Crowley so Aziraphale loved it. “Let’s take care of you, yes?” Aziraphale said.

Crowley tapped Aziraphale on the hip petulantly. “Should be taking care of you.”

Aziraphale snorted. “I’m quite alright. Better than alright. I’m not the one in the throes of some biological _necessity_.”

Crowley let Aziraphale manhandle him under the spray. A miracled sponge did the trick as Aziraphale rubbed suds over Crowley’s belly as the water rinsed away the sticky traces of come and lube. This felt right. The way things normally were. Aziraphale, taking care of Crowley.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said warningly when Aziraphale brushed his fingers over Crowley’s cock experimentally. It sent a thread of sheer desire through Aziraphale. _Again. More._

The thoughts were forced from his head when Crowley shoved him against the wall of the shower, back arched uncomfortably. His face was pressed into the cool tiles and his head was spinning. In a flash of panic, he used his powers to switch to a vulva, something he hadn’t done in a very long time and which set off all sorts of new nerve endings in his belly and between his legs. Oh, he’d forgotten how much a vagina could ache with unfulfilled need.

Crowley’s hand was wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him in place as he rutted against his arse. Aziraphale squirmed, the new sensation between his legs begging for relief.

Maybe if he…

He reached behind him and grasped Crowley in his hand, standing up on the tip of his toes so he could press him just _there_.

He cried out when Crowley slipped inside, the sensation was completely different than when Crowley fucked his arse. He gasped with each thrust, the cool tiles rubbing over his sensitive nipples and sending him higher. Crowley was unforgiving in his movements. His hand was still pressed against Aziraphale’s neck, refusing to let him move as Crowley clutched at his hip with his free hand.

Crowley made a disgruntled noise, pulling out as he tugged Aziraphale’s hips back, petted his spine and slammed back into him. The angle was just right this time. All Aziraphale had to do was stay upright and take it, his orgasm beginning in his toes and then crashing over him in waves that refused to stop.

Crowley groaned and nearly collapsed on top of him slipping out with a mumbled apology as he fell against the tiles next to Aziraphale. “Maybe a shower was a bad idea.”

Aziraphale laughed, standing upright as his muscles protested against the position he’d been held in.

“On the contrary, my dear. I think it was a _fantastic_ idea.”

* * *

Aziraphale tripped out of the bedroom, wrapped in the dressing gown he kept at Crowley’s flat for special occasions. Was this a special occasion?

He was pleasantly sore between his legs. Thoroughly fucked.

He supposed 48 hours of sex could do that to a person.

At some point after Aziraphale had switched to a vagina, he’d lost track of their couplings. All he knew was that Crowley came back to himself more and more each time. That he’d spent a good half hour eating him out from stem to stern, saying something about kissing it better.

Aziraphale had had his mouth fucked. His thighs fucked. His arse and newly minted vagina fucked.

And Crowley was lying in the bedroom. Surely waiting to fuck him again.

Aziraphale collapsed against the kitchen counter with a happy sigh. Perhaps after all this was over, he could have a long conversation with Crowley about his newfound desire to be held down and ravished.

He wondered if Crowley would like to be held down and ravished.

Arousal pulsed through him at the thought.

Fucking Crowley through orgasm after orgasm, wringing him out until he was a mewling mess. Aziraphale thought of settling into the afterglow. Running Crowley a bath and caring for him. Feeding him grapes and kissing his beautiful neck as they snuggled together on the couch.

He hummed as he filled a glass with water, pleased at all the possibilities unfurling in front of him. Draining half the glass, he brought the rest into the bedroom, sure Crowley could use something to drink even if neither of them needed it.

Crowley was spread across the bed, entirely naked and looking well-fucked. He opened his eyes and looked at Aziraphale blearily. Still home then. “Angel?”

“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale said, crawling into bed next to him and help him sit up against the pillow. “I brought you some water. Can you drink it?”

Crowley groaned but took the cup, sipping on it carefully as his eyes fluttered shut. “I’m exhausted.”

“Very understandable,” Aziraphale said as he brushed his hand through Crowley’s hair. It was a tangled mess, damp in places from his sweat. “How much longer do you think? Before the next wave?”

“After the first day or so it slows down. Maybe every few hours and then it’ll slow down even further from there.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale said carefully. “Do you need anything? I bought some nibbles for us if you’re feeling peckish.”

“Fuck, I don’t think I could eat anything even if I wanted to. My stomach’s in knots.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Aziraphale replied. Pleasure or no, he didn’t like seeing Crowley like this. Miserable.

Crowley’s eyes shot open, those shocking dilated pupils. “Don’t be. This is scads better than every other blasted time I’ve done this. Wanking myself raw for hours.”

Something bright flared in Aziraphale’s chest. Pride he thought. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Crowley moaned as he rolled onto his side, shoving his face into Aziraphale’s hip. He wrinkled his nose and pulled back. “When did you get dressed?”

“I hardly think a dressing gown is _dressed_ ,” Aziraphale pointed out, curling one hand around Crowley’s bare back. There was so much affection in him just then, love spilling out of him pure and simple.

Crowley scoffed, nuzzling against him. “Think you could just come down here?”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to rest,” Crowley said. “Would you hold me?”

That love increased tenfold and Aziraphale thought he might cry. “Of course. Anything.”

He scooted down against the pillows and pulled Crowley against him, spooning up against his back as he pulled the blankets up over them.

“Rest, darling.”

* * *

In the end, Crowley was right. It lasted seven days and by the end of it they were having sex every six hours or so. Aziraphale slept off and on, his tired bruised body enough to pull him under. Occasionally, Crowley woke him up with a mouth on him or by rutting up against his backside until he pushed inside him.

Every second of it was delicious. Aziraphale had never felt so desired.

The last time—though neither of them knew it would be—Crowley rocked into him from behind, the steady slide of his cock in Aziraphale’s vagina casting waves of pleasure through Aziraphale’s body. He had no idea how many orgasms he’d had in the last seven days but he was certain he was about to have one more.

“Love,” Crowley said into the back of his neck. The best part of this was when Crowley had started to gain control over the heat, able to care for Aziraphale even during their violent couplings. It was a unique experience to be taken so thoroughly and also feel entirely precious.

Aziraphale hummed and pushed back against him, loving the press of his cool body against his back.

“Oh, love,” Crowley gasped, a shocked sound. “You’re so bloody perfect. A perfect angel. Perfect for me.”

Aziraphale moaned, his orgasm cresting until it washed over him, subtle and yet so satisfying.

Crowley ground into him, circling his hips and sinking his teeth into the meat of Aziraphale’s shoulder to muffle his own cry.

Then Crowley was pushing him onto his back, a cool hand rubbing circles into his belly as he pressed soft kisses to his chest.

“It’s over,” he said and when Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked at him, he saw that his eyes had returned to their normal snakelike pupils.

His heart swelled. He’d missed Crowley’s eyes. Unable to resist, he gathered Crowley in his arms and pulled him onto his chest. Crowley yelped.

“Angel!”

“I love you, you ridiculous demon.”

Crowley made a disgruntled noise but didn’t pull away.

“Let’s get out of this bedroom. Perhaps a shower? A snack?” Aziraphale said, already thinking about the cake in the fridge. He’d been so caught up in Crowley and using all his free time for rest that he’d not had the opportunity to eat anything. His mouth watered.

Crowley grumbled but let Aziraphale help him into the shower. They washed each other carefully, trading soft kisses but not going any further. They were both exhausted but being close felt like the most important thing, something driving Aziraphale to hold Crowley, always be touching him.

Once they shut off the water, Aziraphale summoned one of his newly purchased towels, running the soft fabric over Crowley’s body and smiling when he leaned into the touch like a happy cat. It reminded Aziraphale of the way Crowley would butt his head against Aziraphale’s hand when he was in snake form, asking for a scratch.

Aziraphale opened the windows to air out the bedroom before they got dressed, dancing around each other as the process took twice as long as normal because the refused to stop touching.

It was a relief when they collapsed onto the couch into each others’ arms, the full body contact soothing and safe.

Aziraphale had no idea how much time passed while they leaned into each other. At some point, Crowley clicked on the telly and some cooking show played, making Aziraphale’s food cravings even worse. Eventually, he gave in and untangled himself from Crowley to go into the kitchen and retrieve his cake.

Settling back on the sofa, Aziraphale pulled the plate of cake in his lap and hummed around the first mouthful. Crowley watched him, the way he did sometime when he ate. But Aziraphale paused.

“Are you alright?”

Crowley’s gaze skittered to the side. The television paused. “Are _you_?”

Ah, it was that then. Aziraphale set his plate on the coffee table and turned to face Crowley. “I am absolutely fine.”

Aziraphale warred with himself. Should he explain how much he liked it to Crowley? Perhaps it would help alleviate some of his anxiety. Was it worth it?

He took a deep breath as heat crept over his cheeks. “Crowley, I—”

Crowley turned wide, nervous eyes on him and Aziraphale knew immediately that he’d have to confess the truth. He hated how Crowley was looking at him, like Aziraphale was two seconds from kicking him to the curb.

“I liked it,” Aziraphale said all in a rush.

“What?” Crowley nearly shouted. “Wait”—he was shaking his head in disbelief, eyes screwed shut—“no.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat and steeled himself. “I am fully aware that our typical...bedroom activities do not include the more...forceful aspects of carnal relations but I found them very satisfying.”

“Satisfying,” Crowley squeaked.

Aziraphale nodded.

“You liked it,” Crowley repeated, disbelieving.

“Loved it,” Aziraphale corrected.

“Oh.” Crowley stared at him for a long moment.

“Is that awful?” His nerves were returning.

“Unexpected,” Crowley said, looking like Aziraphale had maybe hit him over the head. “It’s unexpected. I thought you liked - you’ve always been so…”

“I like that too,” Aziraphale rushed to say, reaching out to lay a delicate hand on Crowley’s thigh. “I think I like it all. Because it’s you.”

“Ah fuck,” Crowley said, hands coming up to cover his face. “Why do you gotta say embarrassing stuff like that?”

“As if you don’t love it,” Aziraphale teased. He scooted closer to Crowley and laid his head in his lap, stretching out along the couch and making himself comfortable.

Crowley’s hand landed in his hair, carefully scratching over his scalp. Aziraphale closed his eyes, satisfied that he wouldn’t have to wait another century to try out all the things he was happily imagining.


End file.
